


Tiffany-Ray Valentine One Shots.

by BornToBeBeheaded



Category: Child's Play | Chucky (Movies 1998-2017)
Genre: Big Dick Reader, Blood Play, Blow Job, Cheating, Complex feelings, Creamie, Cum Play, Cunnlingus, F/M, Face Sitting, Graphic Discriptions Of Murder, Knife Play, Light Choking, Mocking, One Night Stand, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, Reader Death, Riding, Some comfort, Teasing, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, cuckholding, cum shots, rope play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 06:07:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30051060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BornToBeBeheaded/pseuds/BornToBeBeheaded
Summary: Each chapter is a new and different One Shot with Tiffany-Ray Valentine. So far all of them with a AMAB! Reader, something a bit different for me. Enjoy them all the same!
Relationships: Chucky | Charles Lee Ray & Tiffany Valentine-Ray, Tiffany Ray-Valentine/Reader, Tiffany Ray-Valentine/You
Kudos: 2





	1. I Probably Shouldn't.

**Author's Note:**

> My very first request for an AMAB! Reader, it was fun challenge and hope you all enjoy it! I am very happy with how it came out. So as per usual feedback, ideas, suggestions, requests are all HIGHLY encouraged, leave a comment here or shoot me an ask on my tumblr bisexual-horror-fan, looking forward to hearing from you. Thank you so much for reading and enjoy!

She never meant for it to happen.

Really she was happy with Chucky and was usually so loyal, there were so many reasons it was a terrible idea but she was only human after all. Typically she was so busy, always had things to do, but casually, slowly, she started to notice you. 

The first day she was just grabbing the mail, standing at the end of the driveway, flipping through letters and bills, humming to herself softly. It was a nice day, early summer, she slowly started to come up the driveway, still preoccupied with the mail in her manicured hands. Movement off to the side caught her peripheral vision and she looked proper, turning her head to see you. 

And you.

You were-

Distracting. 

Very distracting. No one should look that good mowing a lawn. And yet you did. You noticed her looking at you and so you gave a casual wave and a smile. A small smile of her own as she waved back, and she may have lingered a bit too long, eyes raking over you as she slowly made her way back inside, still looking at you long after you had stopped looking at her. 

There was nothing wrong with looking. 

Right?

That was your rationalization too. She was so fucking hot, you couldn’t help yourself, I mean you knew she was married but again there was nothing wrong with just looking. As long as it just stays that, looking. 

And that is all it was on your side and hers for a while. 

You liked her looking and she liked you looking too. It took her a bit to catch on to the game you were playing with her. You got a handle on her schedule and it isn’t like you were purposefully trying to tempt her, it just so happened that when she went out to water the flowers in the backyard, you were in your own backyard, shirt conventionally forgotten. 

She caught on to what you were doing of course and decided to fire back. You took notice right away. You weren’t sure if it was on purpose at first when you caught her changing in front of the window, curtains blatantly open. Purple lace against her creamy skin looked fucking insanely good, she looked soft and you couldn’t help the thoughts that began to plague you when she was around. 

She was a woman who went after what she wanted. And so she made the first move. Playing the part of the good neighbor. You had been working outside when she called to you. Leaning over the shared fence, tray in hand as she beckoned you over and you went over easily, trying not to rush so you didn’t look over eager. Polite as ever when you addressed her, 

“Good afternoon Mrs.Valentine.”

A laugh from her before she was playfully drawing out saying your name and then corrected you, lightly chastising you,

“I told you to call me Tiffany.”

You felt a little weird about that, didn’t want to be too informal, I mean you were already playing with fire, she was a married woman and while her husband didn’t seem to get the most imposing figure, there was something in how he acted that you saw on occasion that made you think you wouldn’t wanna cross him. 

With how she was looking at you though you felt that you should give in and so you did. Breaking under her gaze as you responded,

“Right-sorry Tiffany.”

She gave a small hum showing her approval and adjusted, standing up straighter as she held the tray out,

“Looks like you were working hard out here so I thought you might like some lemonade and cookies.”

Well shit wasn’t she just the sweetest? It was a hot summer day and here she was, playing perfect little housewife, that husband of hers was a lucky man. You wondered why she was wasting her time with you though? Those looks she was giving you, this game of back and forth you were playing, was she not happy with him? Did he ignore her? Is that why she was seeking you out? Craving not YOUR attention in particular but just ANY attention? 

That was fine by you. 

It didn’t really matter because right now she did want your attention and you would be an idiot to pass up such an opportunity

“Oh you really didn’t have to do this-”

“No, no, I insist, it’s my pleasure.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from staring at her mouth as she said that, the way the word ‘pleasure’ slipped from between her lips got to you and made your mind wander to other things related to that particular word. 

“Go ahead.”

She offered and you remembered yourself and picked up one of the chocolate chip cookies and your hand closed around the glass, the condensation feeling icy in comparison to the hot day outside. They were delicious, of course they were, there was not way they wouldn’t be, you couldn’t help the small moan you let out, 

“Oh my God Tiffany-”

She leaned closer, you could smell her perfume and fuck it was nice, she was smiling as she spoke low, just to you,

“Do you like my cookies?”

She was flirting with you. Blatantly. And you returned it readily, so on it went. 

What really sealed the deal was that summer storm. It was raining hard, a terribly thunderstorm. Tiffany had gone to the grocery store with the intention of trying to get it done before the storm hit, she had missed the window. You had looked out the window and saw her pull up into her driveway. You watched her, sitting in her car, debating what to do. You saw your chance and so you took it, front door opened and you gave a wave to get her attention. She noticed you and you gestured her to roll down the window, she did so and you called out to her, 

“Need a hand?”

She was very grateful.

Even with you helping and doing most of it you both still got wet. The rain was so heavy from the storm that you both got fairly drenched. You were going to do it all yourself but she insisted on helping still. So here you were, it was dark in the kitchen, both dripping and she was thanking you profusely for your help.

She insisted you stay, even though you were right next door, she offered to help with your clothes and well she was just so nice and hospitable you certainly couldn’t say no, it would be rude. 

That was how it happened. 

You in the bathroom, getting changed, stripping out of your soaked clothing and her coming in sooner than you were ready for and fucking hell. You looked damn good. She apologized for barging in but she didn’t leave, eyes roaming over your damp body and you certainly didn’t shy away. Hard to say who moved closer to who first, but what was really important was that was the first time you two had hooked up. You could not get over how good it was, how good she was, I mean you had been staring, looking her over for so long, but actually getting to touch her?

My God. 

Her body was incredible, so soft just like you knew she would be and she was so confident. Taking the lead easily, she was a woman who knew what she wanted after all, So when she finally removed the last bit of your clothing, underwear pulled down, finding you achingly hard, she was very fucking impressed. On her knees in front of you, your underwear pulled down your thighs and her mouth pressed to the head of your cock, hand wrapped around the base as she said,

“Don’t tell me you have been hiding this from me the whole time.”

And when those lips finally wrapped around you and set to work swallowing your ample length you fucking moaned her name. To say Tiffany Ray Valentine is good at sucking dick is frankly an understatement, she knew just how to handle you and you had been so caught up, sitting on the edge of the tub, eyes were closed that you didn’t notice her get up, and soon she as straddling your lap and positioned herself just right. There was this moment, a shared gasp between you and her as she slid down, filling herself up, tight, wet heat wrapped around you. All bets were off then. Your arms around her waist, pulling her up before slamming her back down and how she threw her head back with a moan, fuck, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to stay away.

So you didn’t.

You certainly weren’t trying to get caught but you probably weren’t being as subtle as you should have been. You started being really helpful around her house, or that was the excuse anyway. You coming over to help fix the sink turned into you having her spread on the kitchen table using your own mouth on her, she was great at directing you and you took that direction, doing everything she wanted to the letter and of course loving every little reaction. You hands on her hips as you tasted her and she tasted amazing, but that was one of the best words to describe her. Just amazing from head to toe, how could you become anything but obsessed with her?

There were many more hookups, varying locations in her house, many a different activity, she had started introducing kink into the time you two shared and you had to admit there was something about having a knife to your throat that made you cum unreasonably hard. She would tell you that she could swear that you would fill her up extra whenever she did that to you. Also you ended up learning to adore the times she would felx her knot tying skills when she pulled the rope out, not like you needed much convincing on that one.

Now that brings us up to today. One of the few places you didn’t hook up often was her bedroom, not because she didn’t want to but because you felt a little weird about it, I mean she was married, it was the bed she shared with her husband, last thing you wanted to do was mess up their bed and get caught because of that. She would love to tease you over it, 

“You are so bad at lying.”

Talking about how much harder you felt when she stroked you with the hand that had her wedding ring on. And sure maybe she had a point, maybe you did really like it and get off on it but there wasn’t anything wrong with not admitting that. She had insisted you come grocery shopping with her, she wanted to bake you something and so of course you went. Little did the two of you know that her husband who was supposed to be gone all day had come home while you were out. The baking got heated, you two of you soon found yourself upstairs and in that same bed you had shown previous reluctance to being in. 

He was going to fucking kill you. 

He had been in the walk in closet when you both came stumbling in, you had already gotten Tiffany half undressed on the way, it was you both falling back onto the bed and her laughing that got his attention. He knew that particular laugh all too well. He was a bit too stunned with what was going on in front of him to do anything at first but soon he found himself actually watching. It shouldn’t be this fucking hot, really he should be pissed, he was but he was also suprisingly into it. The emotions were hard to process in the moment, anger and arousal in equal measure as he watched you sink inside of his wife and how she moaned your name in response, legs wrapping around your hips. You and she had not a care in the world, blissfully unaware and lost in the pleasure soaked moment with one and other 

That same thought kept repeating, even after he had pulled himself out and begun to get off to the two of you. He was going to kill you, he couldn’t let you get away with this, no way but Christ the way she writhed under her as you fucked into her, your mouth on her neck, it was such a hot image. 

And okay maybe the orgasm he had from witnessing this, spilling thick ropes of cum over his own hand and the carpeted floor of the closet, was one of the best he had in recent memory. So maybe he wouldn’t take you out right away, maybe he would try to watch this a little bit more, and maybe, just fucking maybe, he wouldn’t think to hard about what that said about him.


	2. Please Do.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick drabble with our AMAB! Reader and Tiffany, the prompt was “Well since you wanna cum so badly. Let’s see how many times I can make you cum right now.” Hot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick and dirty with out queen Tiffany, dirty talk, orgasm denial, all that fun shit, hope you enjoy it! As per usual feedback, ideas, suggestions, requests are all highly encouraged, leave a comment here or shoot an ask to my tumblr bisexual-horror-fan, I would love to hear from you! Thanks so much for reading!

It was so hard to slow down with her.

She was just so fucking hot, so soft, so damn good. Didn’t help matters that Tiffany had gotten into denial as of late. Loving having you please her while forgoing your needs, she loved how desperate you got. As she would say-

“You are so cute when you get so frustrated.”

There was a problem with it however, you were a bit difficult to reign in when she pushed too far. If she denied you too long then fucking hell it was nearly impossible for you to hold back and restrain yourself. She had been explicitly clear this evening. Telling you crystal clear, in no uncertain terms what she wanted. And you were so hard up for it you gave in of course, even if you weren’t you still would have done whatever she wanted because when Tiffany Ray Valentine asked something of you, well you fucking did it. 

Part of why she loved it so much was how much it would make you produce. She would adore that part of it, how full you would pump her and how great it was to feel it slowly leak out of her abused and well fucked hole, or how much would coat those fantastic tits of hers when she jerked you off onto her. She had a bit of a cumfetish and hell who could blame her? When she is reclined on the bed, sticky and covered in all that mess, fingering trailing through those pools that were the evidence of your pleasure that really started to get to you and made you curious yourself.

So as for what she asked-

She wanted your mouth. You obliged, readily. She was on her back on the bed, you on the ground on your knees, one hand on her, cradling one of her hips, thumb stroking over your hip bone, mouth lathing attention on her. Taking your sweet time, doing it just as she liked and how she had shown you and you were lost in pleasing her. 

Perhaps too lost.

You forgot your place. Your other hand ended up getting a bit too busy with something else. Hand wrapped around yourself, stroking as you licked and sucked and kissed between those stunning thighs of hers, enjoying her taste and how she moaned and sighed.

It didn’t last. 

Your eyes were closed as you worked and you felt something on your shoulder. She still had her heels on and was using one to push you back, forcing your mouth to break contact with her and she was now propped up on her elbows as she asked,

“What are you doing?”

Fuck. 

She caught you. 

And you knew that you weren’t supposed to be doing this, when you were on your knees for her it was all about her pleasure unless you were explicitly told otherwise. It was obvious to her, you would always be distracted when you tried to do this while eating her out, this wasn’t the first time she had caught you like this. You should know better. She nudged you with her heel again and you sat back on your knees as she sat up, her hand reached out, grabbing your chin, her nicely manicured nails biting into your skin as she then turned your head side to side, looking you over, for any sign of actual remorse.

A sigh from her before she said,

“Well since you wanna cum so badly. Let’s see how many times I can make you cum right now.”

You had never been so simultaneously excited and terrified by such a simple two sentences in your life but again Tiffany had a tendancy to do that kind of thing. And so soon you found yourself sitting on the edge of the bed, her on her knees in front of you, and using her own oral skills that, no offense to you, put yours to shame.

Still she didn’t give you what you wanted quite so easily. She lingered as she touched and tasted, in how she used her mouth in such an obscene fashion. Sucking on the swollen head of your dick, looking up at you through those lashes of hers, maintaining eye contact as she stroked, hand working, wrist twisting on the down stroke. How could you ever last long like this?

You couldn’t.

Not without her help. And help she did, she made sure not to let you cum before she was ready, edging you a few more times with practiced ease until she finally, mercifully let you cum in her mouth, and it felt like heaven as she worked you through your orgasm.

Or rather it DID feel like heaven. Until she didn’t stop. Didn’t slow, just still working over your cock with the exact same passionate fervor as before, making you squirm so damn much and beg for her to stop.

She smiled around your straining cock as she still did not relent.

Do not fuck with Tiffany unless you are ready to face the consequences.


	3. By Way Of Apology.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are a sweet young man who gets involved with his very attractive, older, married neighbour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Tiffany, more cheating, more spicy, this was a fun one to do! Another request from my tumblr, hope you all enjoy it! So as per usual feedback, ideas, suggestions, requests are all HIGHLY encouraged, leave a comment here or shoot an ask to my tumblr blog, bisexual-horror-fan, would love to hear from you! Enjoy and thank you for reading!

Tiffany kinda hated how often they ended up moving, I mean it was necessary of course but that didn’t mean she had to like it. The biggest thing with it meant that she could never do much to dress up their space, couldn’t do any serious decorating or renovating and even if she could sometimes they have to pack and run off so quick it would just be a waste. Not like she could take that cute lamp that she has been eyeing at the store lately with her if they went on the run again. 

So what is she to do to help make their current apartment feel more like an actual home? 

Cooking and baking. 

It was easy for a space to feel more like home with the small of snickerdoodles permeating the apartment.

She threw herself into it and it was easy to justify the money for it, there wasn’t exactly a shortage of money with Charles taking it off the bodies he killed. And they had to eat after all. It was good for stress relief and was fun and time consuming and kept her mind and her hands busy. Idle hands are the devil's playthings after all, she knew that better than anyone. Now she couldn’t blame her newfound love of time spent in the kitchen on what happened right? I mean that would be silly. It was a little hard to not think that however when the events of that afternoon led to all of this. 

Arms full of brown paper bags, making her way up the stairs, mind as busy as her hands that were attempting to juggle the very full bags, caught up thinking about her plans for handmade pasta and peach cobbler with vanilla ice cream-

And then a very distinct rip pulling her out of those same thoughts, head whipping up as she heard it,

“Shit!”

Looking down in time to see one of the bags with a huge rip, items spilling out and falling down the stairs, she was about to start to scramble to pick them up. She was turning halfway on the step about to reach down to then instead see you, being your usual helpful self, picking up her groceries. 

“Think you dropped this.”

You offered up with a smile as you held up a lemon. 

Cute. 

Life had given her lemons and you too apparently. 

That was how you met proper. You helped her bring the stuff inside and she thanked you profusely, lamenting how weak the bags were and how lucky she was you were there to help her out. She had seen you in passing in the hallway but obviously had to keep a low profile and couldn’t get to know you but now that this meeting had been forced it was hard to not want to. 

She was lonely. 

The very nature of their lives means that she cannot get super close to get to anyone they live with for fear of exposure or getting caught or simply because again she cannot linger. Sure she had Charles and loved him so fucking much but she was a sociable person, she liked having friends and other people around, and so who could really blame her that she began to hang around you a little more often. Seeing you in the hallway she would stop and chat, make pleasant small talk and fork over extras of her baking and cooking ventures. 

You were enamored by her.

The fact she was interested in you, talked to you, seemed to seek you out was fucking mind blowing. She was refreshing and mature and wonderful. You were fresh out of high school, and 18 and so damn young but I mean hey you were legal and if she did what she had been thinking about you certainly wouldn’t be the worst thing she had ever done. 

One afternoon she had caught you in the hall and invited you in for a drink and that is when she realized. Something about you seemed to remind her of something from long ago and she couldn’t place it but talking to you and going through Charles old scrapbooks of newspaper articles pertaining to his ‘career’ revealed it and she put all the pieces together. You telling her about your adopted parents is what really sealed the deal and she figured it out. 

She felt awful.

She had never met and gotten to know someone like you. Becoming invested only to realize after the fact, after she started to care, that your parents, your birth parents, were victims of Charles. Early victims. She remembered that night, she saw him after he had done it, she recalled licking her thumb and wiping a smudge of blood from his cheek and then he kissed her and then they-

Jesus.

How was she supposed to handle this?

How she went about it probably wasn’t the best way but she couldn’t help it. She liked you more, fell for you harder than before, she couldn’t help the fact she had such a big heart and was a caretaker by nature. 

It happened one night. Late. Charles was out. You came by to return a dish she had dropped off days earlier filled with lemon squares and she was finishing up making dinner and invited you in. She kissed you first and her lips felt like heaven on Earth and she couldn’t help herself, especially as you kissed her back and your hands met her waist and her hands began exploring you tentatively in kind. Dinner dishes forgotten, more impassioned kissing, her leading you, pulling you as she walked backwards, refusing to break the contact of her mouth on yours as she led you to the couch. 

You wouldn’t dream of stopping her. You had been thinking about this often and now it was happening and she had initiated it just like you hoped she would, you had this sneaking suspicion that she was a woman who took what she wanted and knew just what to get what she craved, and right now she was craving you. And that is how you ended up on your back on the couch, your belt undone and your jeans pulled down, her using that perfect mouth on you, your hand in her blonde hair, the view incredible, moonlight spilling in from the window, she looked almost ethereal and she made you feel like anything that you ever had previously.

When she was done with that she took her panties off and pulled her skirt up and sat on your face, your hands on her ass to help support her, one of her hands on the back rest of the couch as she moved with you, grinding down on your willing tongue, head thrown back as she moaned out your name in bliss. 

You had her on that same couch after that, clothes barely pulled off, she left hickies on your neck and her nails left marks on your back and if you thought her mouth felt good on your cock it was nothing compared to feeling her cum on it. 

It became a bad habit. She just felt bad, you were so sweet and so hard working and well adjusted even with what had happened to your parents, she was happy you turned out so well and were going to be okay. Plus after that night she realized how fucking good you were and then it was even harder to stay away and so she didn’t.

She couldn’t bring your parents back but hey she could do what she knew to try and make up for it, keep your stomach full and your balls empty and you didn’t need to know WHY she was doing it. In some fucked up way it made her feel better and you certainly seemed happier.

It could be your little secret.


	4. Spilling More Than Just Blood.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She picks you up at the bar for what promsies to be an unfortgettable night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyy! Another request from my tumblr, hope you all enjoy it! Feedback, ideas, suggestions, requests are all HIGHLY encouraged, leave a comment here or shoot an ask to my tumblr, bisexual-horror-fan, look forward to hearing from you! Hope you all enjoy and thank you for reading!

You were fucking cute.

That is what was on her mind when she saw you out at the bar that night. She had been having those particular cravings as of late once again. Charles had been off doing God knows what, and God knows where, had been gone for a while. He always came back and had been gone longer than this before but still a month had passed and she was getting antsy. It was a bad habit but when he was gone she would seek out things to help fill the void and that would remind her of him. They bonded so heavily over that shared ‘hobby’ of theirs, there had been so many wonderful nights shared between them over that, the amount of nights that ended with them in each other's arms nearly on top of some body they just finished draining the life out of. 

She was missing him and you were cute and alone and had been looking at her on and off for the past ten minutes but hadn’t made a move. She was used to that, she knew she could be very intimidating and a lot of times guys wouldn’t want to approach her first. 

Should she?

She wasn’t sure why she was trying to pretend, she had already made up her mind. She picked up her drink and slid off her stool and made her way over to you with purpose. 

You couldn’t believe that someone like her came up and approached you first, it wasn’t like you thought you were a bad looking guy or anything but she was totally fucking stunning, what could she possibly want with someone like you? 

Turns out she made what she wanted crystal fucking clear and you would be a total fucking idiot to pass up a one-night stand with her. 

She insisted on going back to your place and you didn’t exactly fight her on it. You were preoccupied with other things, like how soft her lips felt and how warm she was and the way her hair felt when it brushed your cheek when she pulled away. She took your hand and asked where you lived and when you confessed it was only a few blocks away she smiled said,

“Perfect.”

You reached your place so quickly and the second the door to your apartment was open she was on you again. Pushing you back against the door to your apartment and she was kissing you and her hands were pulling at your clothes and fuck you weren’t used to a woman like her taking charge in such a fashion but fuck it was hot. You didn’t want to fall short, you wanted to impress her, if there was a chance of seeing her again you wanted that, the possibility was small but even still you wanted her to have a good time. She certainly seemed to be enjoying herself thus far, your hands on her waist and you pulled her closer, the dress she had on was so tight, her body through the thin fabric felt incredible. You wanted to peel it off her and see all that she had to offer. She had broken that kiss, leaned in and whispered in your ear, 

“Make me a drink?”

That is how you found yourself in the kitchen with her doing just that. You were trying to make conversation as you recalled one of the only cocktails you knew how to make, working on cutting up fresh lemon, she was leaning against the kitchen counter watching you with vague interest. She moved then, hand meeting your wrist and dragging her nails up your exposed forearm as she slid behind you, one hand on your shoulder and her other hand sliding over your front, dragging over your stomach. You tensed under her touch, feeling her so close, her breasts pushed to your back as she watched you work. She watched you for a minute more before her hand drifted lower, starting to open your belt as she spoke low in your ear, 

“Relax.”

You tried to listen but it was easier said than done, her other hand drifted down to join the first and soon you felt her hand closing around your achingly hard cock and you inhaled sharply at the feeling. Here beginning to touch you like this fucking got to you and it made you slow what you were doing, how her grip tightened and the way her hand dragged over your heated and sensitive flesh was so good. You already wanted to buck forward into her grip, it had been far too long since the last time that you had been with someone and it didn’t help that she was so good at it. You made a move to put down your knife and suddenly one of her hands was on your throat, manicured nails almost biting into your flesh, she wasn’t close to cutting off your air supply but it was sudden and unexpected and so you gasped her name as she spoke in a tone harsher than you had heard her use yet, 

“Did I say you could stop?” 

A shake of your head and her grip tightened as she said, “Well c’mon then. I’m still thirsty.” You tried to focus up and listen to her. Forcing your gaze down and you set to work, not trying to be slow but making sure your movements were purposeful, attempting to focus on the task at hand to distract how fucking good her hand felt as she stroked your throbbing cock. 

As it progressed so did you. It was so hard, you tried to last but with her leaning so close into you, whispering into your ear, kissing the side and back of your neck; the pleasant drag of her nails on your jaw and throat and how she worked your slick shaft and of course the special attention she paid to the head, God damn. It all meant that it didn’t matter how well you focused on measurements or muddling or ratios. You were already planning on how you would sit her up on your kitchen counter top and how you’d drop to your knees between her spread legs and how you would make it up to her with your own mouth until you’d be ready to fuck her properly, like she deserved. So fuck it, if you came now it would be fine, and you were sure that she was aware of it, she had to feel you pulsing in her grip and was aware of your end. 

The timing was perfect. You poured the finished cocktail into the sugar rimmed glass, dropped the twist of lemon peel into it and finally gave in and came, spilling over her fingers, head tipping back, hands flat on the counter top now that they were free of your task and basked in your well earned orgasm given by her hands. Your breathing was labored and you were happy to have the counter right there for support as your knees felt significantly weaker. 

It couldn’t have worked out better honestly. The way you moved your head back, eyes closed, you exposed your throat perfectly to her and her hand left your neck and reached down and picked up the knife you had discarded on the cutting board. She released your spent self and with her cum covered hand she brought it up, hand on your forehead, holding your head in place and before you could think of reacting that knife came up and she slit your throat open. It wasn’t the first time she had done it and it wouldn’t be the last, she knew just how to go about it and had surprising strength as she plunged the knife in hard and reefed on it, pulling it through skin and cartilage with shocking ease. 

She made the right choice doing this while she was behind you. The amount of blood that poured out of you made such a terrible mess. You faded so fast, you had no chance, were no match for her, she felt you start to go slack and stepped to the side, letting you drop like the dead weight you now were to the kitchen tile below. The blood had half gotten in your sink and half on the counter, dripping down the cabinets along with the cum you had spilled moments before your death. She admired her work. Her desire having be sated for tonight, the healthy mix of sex and violence helping make those feelings of missing Charles significantly less. She dropped the knife into the sink and was about to get ready to leave, allowing herself to take in the scene again before departing when she noticed the drink you had made for here still on the counter. Seemed like it would be terrible to waste it. 

You had made it just for her and it was the last thing you ever did, she might as well enjoy it. She took the step needed and picked up the glass, some of your blood had found its way into the glass, not surprising with the mess you made. She eyed the way it mixed with the drink, the gradient effect it caused was pleasing to the eye and then she sauntered to the living room. Staring out the window, looking at the city lights, you had a nice view. She took her time as she enjoyed the cocktail you made her as your body in the next room grew as cold as the ice in her glass.


End file.
